Karen Pernick
Two Kinds of Weather

Allowing 10 years to pass between recordings isnít a career strategy that
comes highly recommended. Then again, a similarly sluggish game plan worked out
quite well for Lucinda Williams. While Karen Pernickís sophomore effort Two
Kinds of Weather isnít likely to be the sort of breakthrough that is on par
with Williamsí Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, it does showcase her growth
and maturity as an artist. Musically poised at the crossroads where Jesse Sykes,
Cowboy Junkies, Neko Case, and Shawn Colvin collide, the endeavor suitably
captures the moody ambience of the Pacific Northwestís gray-tinted skies under
which it was concocted. Stumbling from one scene to the next, Pernick quietly
reflects upon the relationships in her life, and although she dreams of escaping
to something better, she also struggles with saying goodbye. A sense of both
heartache and yearning drips from opening cut Angieís Tavern; an unspoken
danger lurks within the darkened corners of tracks like Brightest Blaze
and Seven Limbs; and an air of sad optimism permeates the cleansing
waters that pour down upon her in One Way Ticket and Rain. Even a
cover of the Rolling StonesíWild Horses is slowed down to the point
where its sorrow becomes inescapable. Although there are moments when Pernickís
output is too sleepily lethargic for its own good, the quiet, haunted refrains
that she concocted for Two Kinds of Weather are, more often than not,
touchingly beautiful.